


It's Not What It Looks Like, But in the End, It's Exactly What It Looks Like

by Calacious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Nanowrimo2017, WordSprint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2017-11-06
Packaged: 2019-01-30 03:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12645450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calacious/pseuds/Calacious
Summary: Ron and Malfoy are caught in a dark corridor by Professor Snape.





	It's Not What It Looks Like, But in the End, It's Exactly What It Looks Like

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a word sprint during a virtual write-in for NaNoWriMo hosted by WordNerds: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kzNwv9aVMb8
> 
> Please forgive any errors. This was written in 20 minutes. The prompt was: "It's not what it looks like."

"It's not what it looks like."

Famous last words which are typically used when something is EXACTLY what it looks like, but Ron's hoping that Professor Snape will believe him, because, honestly, it ISN'T what it looks like. It's the exact opposite of what it looks like, because, no, he's not standing in the corridor pulling away from Malfoy after kissing the other boy.

Snape merely arches an eyebrow, and looks from the slightly flushed Malfoy to Ron, who can feel heat rising to his cheeks, and shakes his head. "Oh, really, Mr. Weasley?"

"Really," Ron says, looking away, because Snape is clearly not buying it.

The professor sighs, and when Ron looks up, Snape rolls his eyes and motions for Ron and Malfoy to lead the way along the dark corridor back toward the main hallway that leads to the dormitories.

"I'm sure," Snape says to Ron and Malfoy's backs, and Ron hates the smirk that he can hear in the man's voice.

"We're not even out after curfew," Ron mutters.

He gets an elbow in the gut and a hissed admonishment from Malfoy to, "Shut it," in response.

Scowling at the other boy, Ron rubs at his tender belly, and tries to think of a way out of this predicament that he's found himself in. Really, he and Malfoy weren't doing anything wrong, and, sure their faces had been awfully close together, and the professor would not be entirety in the wrong for making a hasty assumption about what he'd seen, plus it had been dark. Anyone would think that they'd been snogging, even though they most definitely were not.

"But --" Ron protests, only to get another elbow in the gut and a warning glare from Malfoy.

"Do you want to get us in trouble?" Malfoy asks, voice low enough that even the so called 'bat of the dungeon' won't hear.

Shaking his head, Ron concedes Malfoy's point, because, while the thought of getting caught snogging with Malfoy is rather repulsive, the thought of getting a howler from his mother for what they'd really been doing -- fighting -- is much worse.

"Then keep your mouth shut," Malfoy says, "and follow my lead."

Nodding, Ron feels some of the dread at having been caught fighting, only to have it mistaken for making out, uncurl in his stomach, making it easier to breathe, and think. He opens his mouth to thank Malfoy, but the word dies on his tongue as Malfoy pushes him up against the wall and presses his lips to Ron's.

And suddenly he's afloat, mind and mouth and body engulfed by a fire that feels like a million little fires have been lit up and down his spine, and throughout his entire being. He can't think, can't breathe, and Malfoy tastes like pumpkin juice, and his tongue is a fire unto itself, and before Ron fully registers what's happening, he's moaning as he and Malfoy are bodily parted by Professor Snape.

Malfoy's eyes are dark, glittering in the flickering light of the torches that light the corridor, and his chest is heaving, his cheeks pink. Ron feels like his whole body's thrumming with some kind of need, and his lips tingle with the memory of Malfoy's lips on his.

He isn't repulsed. Far from it. And, this time when the professor gestures for them to head down the corridor, he places himself between the pair of them, a hand on each of their shoulders, hauling them along.

Snape says something demeaning, Ron's sure, but he can't hear a word of it over the pounding of his heart against his rib cage, the memory of Malfoy's lips on his own, and the raw desire for more. 


End file.
